


Death's Loss

by ElizabethTarington



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Cosmic Balance, Dating, Death, F/M, Grim Reapers, Human/Monster Romance, Hurt, No Happy Ending Fest, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Past Relationship(s), Past sexual relationship, References to Depression, Speed Dating, so you must die, the universe demands a soul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 00:35:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16882281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizabethTarington/pseuds/ElizabethTarington
Summary: Pairing: Female and Death/Grim ReaperWarning: Angst (Death,Mentions of Sex)Word Count:2522Original here: https://elizabethtarington.tumblr.com/post/174223312227/deaths-lossSpecial thanks to Testhesula on r/gonewildaudio for giving me permission to link his audio on this post and for also inspiring this piece of angsty literature.I highly recommend everyone check out Testhesula’s audios if you’re in the mood for something naughty. Especially this particular gem that inspired this short story.https://soundgasm.net/u/testhesula/M4F-Death-cums-for-us-all “[M4F] Death Cums for Us All“If you like it (YOU WILL) I recommend listening to his other audios.Now I know what you’re thinking, Elizabeth, this is an angst piece…this audio is clearly a NSFW sexcapade with Death. You are absolutely correct! I had every intention of writing a delightful smutty short story about banging Death, however as I wrote it, the story took a mind of it’s own. So I went with it.I will possibly write about Death again. Hopefully not so grim (Ho ho ho, pun, #sorrynotsorry) the next time around.





	Death's Loss

There was something about the spring time that drove Emma up a wall. Perhaps it was blossoming plants spreading horrible pollen through the air and wrecking everyone’s sinuses. It could be the warmer weather that always seemed to make it unbearably humid. But it was probably because everyone started announcing weddings or kids on the way.

Her social media was flooded with picture-perfect couples, pregnancy announcements, or even worse, babies. Babies everywhere. Emma felt nothing as she glanced at the professional looking pictures of a newborn baby. There was no biological clock for Emma that rang the baby time chime.

Emma’s mother was the complete opposite. She loved spring. She loved the announcements, using them as a segway into the yearly nagging session and grilling Emma on finding the one. This came with a side of guilt that Emma wasting her life away and she wasn’t getting any younger. Now that she was out of college, with a degree, Emma’s destiny had a motherly decree on pinning down a man, and giving her poor mother grandchildren.

And like every year, Emma began dating some poor shlub in hopes of getting her mother off her back. She had even downloaded several dating apps or allowed her friends to set her up on blind dates. They were always atrocious and ended with Emma diving into a pint of ice cream, wrapping herself up in a bitchin’ unicorn blanket, and binging some TV series.

So when a friend requested a speed dating partner, Emma reluctantly agreed. What was the worst that could happen? She couldn’t possibly be more miserable than she was now. Hell, she’d do anything to get her mother to shut it about dating and babies early this season.

Emma’s friend insisted on going shopping before the occasion, picking up a dress that seemed a little too tight and some slutty underwear. Emma did not follow suit. Her sex drive and romantic urges on life had taken a dive after college.

Even her usual kink of otherworldly creature all but disappeared. Those fevered dreams about having passionate sex with a monster, demon, or beast, dwindling into romance and snuggles. In the last month her mood had become ‘robotic’ according to her friends. She didn’t really understand why, but she felt bored and apathetic with nothing being able to hold her interest for longer than a minute. Not even her favorite fantasy of romancing a grim reaper. That one had been with her since she was a teenager.

When the speed date came along Emma sat tapping her foot, disinterestedly asking things that would fit more in a security questions section than real interaction and then barely paying attention to all the men that sat down. First, was a crossfit coach who talked about his vegan lifestyle—at length. Second, was an accountant who showed off his ten cats on his phone before ‘accidentally’ showing a dick pic of himself. Third, was a guy who smelled a little too much like hemp oil and mentioned he was couchsurfing and tried poorly to make looking for a good location to ‘crash’ permanently sound romantic.

Emma was, to say the least, exhausted after the speed dating concluded. Her friend seemed to have enjoyed herself, asking the crossfit coach out for drinks. Emma was more than welcome to join them, but she opted out, quickly bee lining it out of her own personal hell.

Only once she got home did Emma breathe a sweet sigh of relief, but for only a moment as she saw a black hooded figure sitting on her sofa. Immediately, Emma let out a scream, grabbing her heel from her foot and chucking it at it.

“Really? This again?” Came the distinctly accented voice. “You did this last time.”

Emma blinked as the figure stood up after dodging the shoe with ease. Again. This happened last time? Her brain hurt as a sudden wave of deja vu hit her.

Yes. She had been in this situation before. This was Death or at least the personification of it. The very creature that had come to take her soul a year ago because she was destined to die, but Emma’s idea of Death was somewhat, lewd. The only reason Death didn’t take her soul was because somehow cosmic balance was achieved by Emma experiencing ‘la petite mort’. Death seemed to believed it was Vietnamese despite it being French for the little death, much to Emma’s amusement.

It was all coming back to her. After she slept with Death, he mentioned she wouldn’t remember him or being intimate with him, although she did remember he warned her not to eat the salmon mousse. She definitely avoided that on her date, feeling a distinct urge to vomit when she saw it on the menu that night.

“You,” Emma whispered, “you’re here again.”

He looked different than how Emma imagined him when he first stumbled across her in her getting ready for her date. Previously, she thought Death would be intrinsically inviting and sexy, so when Death beckoned someone’s end, they would gladly go into his open arms. Now as Emma watched him pull his hood back with long spindly fingers, she found herself staring at a completely different person.

The once youthful and angelic face had been replaced with long and sharp angular features. His cheeks were sunken in with pale white eyes that stared back at her with great interest. He was still tall, if not taller than before. Death was imposing, yet his lanky form gave the false impression that Emma could tackle him with little problem. And she definitely was contemplating it as she swallowed nervously. But as soon as that thought had entered her head it was gone.

In her very being, she recognized him as a threat. Yet, she felt nothing as she watched him with careful eyes. He was probably here for her soul and that knowledge meant very little to her.

“Yes, I am here for you. Again.” His eyes wandered over Emma’s figure, “Another date?”

“Speed dating.”

“Speed dating. That sounds, er, disappointing. Unless, it was promising?”

“No, it wasn’t promising at all. I mean, I’m here aren’t I? I don’t imagine I look very impressed.”

“Ah, yes. I suppose that was a poor question on my part. Of course it wasn’t promising given that you are alone and have a rather upset look on your face. Unless—is that because of me? That face?”

“It’s kind of a combination of the two, actually.” Emma sighed, bending over to take her other shoe off, as the flash of attraction she had with Death began and then disappeared, “So you’re here to take my soul. Is that why you look different? Make yourself kind of—scary hot?”

“Scary hot? Do I look frightening to you this time?”

Emma pointed to the mirror, “See for yourself.”

Death glided across the floor to the mirror, pausing to see his reflection. He peered closer, turning his head this way and that as he inspected himself. As he played with the flesh of his face, his bony fingers caught his attention as he twiddled them back and forth.

“I do look rather different, don’t I? But you said scary hot. Does that mean you’re still attracted to this?”

“I assume it’s because it’s still you.” Emma paused as she sat on the armrest of the sofa, “You still sound like you. Still the same voice—the same kind of speech pattern as last time. Despite the changes, you’re very—you.”

Death tore his gaze from his reflection, settling it on Emma who sat silently. The mood was completely different from last time, where Emma might have been eager to shimmy out of her dress to entice death before he stole her soul away, she instead was contemplating letting him simply take it this time.

Emma felt like it was the same thing day in and day out. Sure, she was out of college, she had managed to get herself a job, but it all seemed so meaningless. She had managed to cheat Death once and couldn’t help but wonder if the hollowness of her life was because she wasn’t meant to live. She was supposed to die a year ago and while courting Death was the best feeling of her life, everything else was just a passing day that held no real meaning.

“You seem different this time too. Just as beautiful, but—melancholy?”

Emma glanced up, “You mentioned cosmic balance or something rather—last time. I take it you’re here because you’re still missing a soul and that ‘the little death’ was not enough?”

“Yes.” Death nodded, his face stony in expression.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“What happens when you don’t take a soul that you’re supposed to?” Emma swallowed, almost too scared to ask, “Does the soul change?”

Death stiffened as he stared down at the floor, “The soul should go to where it belongs, so if it isn’t cut off from the body it will free itself until the body is empty.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning your body—well, you, will start losing yourself little by little. It will feel like depression, then boredom, and finally you will essentially just feel nothing at all. You’ll become more of a shell than a person.”

Words caught in Emma’s throat as she only managed a small, “I see. So you knew that something was wrong with me.”

“I had a feeling, yes. Actually, I had several feelings, all very complex when it came to you. Do I take her soul anyways? Do I let her live? Could she live as she was?”

“What stopped you?”

It wasn’t meant to be a brain stumping question, but Death stopped in his tracks, “That’s the question I couldn’t answer—I was hoping you might be able to answer it.”

“Me? What could I possibly know about it?”

“I don’t know! I should have done my job and taken your soul, then you got undressed and showed off those little panties and-” He cut himself off taking a moment before continuing, “Before you, I had never slept with a mortal, I did my job and that was that, but apparently sleeping with you has utterly confused me into a bumbling idiot.”

“How has sleeping with me made you into a bumbling idiot?”

Death gave a heavy sigh as he pushed his hands through his jet black hair, “I think about you, too often. All it took was that one time with you and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. I’ve kept my distance—made a point to never check on you, because stalking is super creepy and also because it’s incredibly mortal to become obsessed with anything or anyone. Yet, I fantasized between moments, of what it would be like to be with you again. More than just for one night kind of way.”

Emma felt mixed emotions as she watched the shame etch itself into Death’s face. Her heart seemed to beat loudly in her chest with excitement, but only for a moment, then it was gone, replaced by a short sadness that she wasn’t able to experience the strong emotion for very long. Despite the short lived feeling, her body responded as she felt wet streaks roll down her cheeks.

“I fantasized about you too.” Emma managed, “Now that I can remember that day, I realize it’s been you that I’ve been fantasizing about—when I could still feel.”

Death’s eyes widened in shock, “You—thought of me?”

Emma nodded, wiping the tears away, “I did. In different forms maybe, but it was still you.”

A small bitter chuckle escaped Death’s lips, his pale eyes denoting the sorrow that lingered behind them, “It’s not fair. It never is.”

“I imagine you would know, given that you’re Death.”

“I do, but sometimes I wish that I could just bend the rules a little—sometimes I wish that it was fair.”

After a brief silence, Emma finally asked in a hushed whisper, “Is it going to hurt?”

“No. I give you my word that it won’t hurt. You won’t feel any sort of pain.”

“What about your pain?”

Her question undid him as Death crossed the room, his hands pushing into Emma’s hair as his lips crashed against hers. She could taste every emotion that boiled up inside him as if it were her own. His agony. His indecision. His sorrow. But the strongest of them all was his love for her.

Emma clung to him tightly, his kiss was dizzying and passionate as his ferocity turned into a smolder. Finally, his mouth softened, the angle changing to deepen the kiss. There was tenderness and Emma could feel Death’s very heart breaking along with her own. Her emotions were his and his were hers.

He was right. It wasn’t fair.

She didn’t know she was going to fall for Death, but she imagined the warning sign was staring at her in the face when the smutty fantasies cropped up. After she slept with him and the fantasies dwindled, becoming idly dreams, she still had yearned for him. Despite not remembering him, she stopped seeing other guys, never taking any date seriously. That was before her emotions had become nothing.

Death murmured Emma’s name on her lips as he pulled away slightly, “If I don’t do it now, I-I’ll-”

“You’ll lose your nerve.” Emma responded, pressing her forehead against his, “I understand.”

She felt his breath, soft and warm on her skin as he gently peppered her face with slow kisses. She held him tightly, rubbing his back as the first few drops of tears fell onto her cheek. It was his shaky breath that made Emma screw her eyes shut as her heart pleaded for Death to not cry.

“It’s going to be okay.” Emma spoke softly, “It’s going to be okay.”

Death held her tightly, swaying her gently back and forth as she continued to speak. It was only when her voice grew softer into barely an audible whisper did Death stop completely. He swallowed the bitterness that rose in his throat as Emma’s body fell limp in his arms.

Her mouth no longer forming words. Her chest no longer producing breath. The silence was deafening as Death’s body trembled, pressing his face to Emma’s neck. He could no longer hear her heart beat and it broke him as a sharp sob exhaled from his lungs. He clung to her as if he could coax life into her with just his heart. But she lay silent and still.

It was a struggle for Death to reign in his composure as he finally pulled away from her. He was gentle, picking her up with ease as he placed her on the sofa and pulled a blanket across her as if he was tucking in a child. He stayed beside her as he calmly called 911, giving the operator the address, and waited patiently until an EMT came to collect Emma’s body.

He watched, quietly hurting as they carried her away, leaving him to stand alone in an empty apartment, until finally he spoke, “It’s never fair.”


End file.
